Emma
by jdmfanfiction
Summary: What if Rick's group was saved? What if someone decided to step in and rescue the group? (Original Character POV)


**Author's Note:** I hope you guys enjoyed this! It was my first time writing in first person from a character's POV. This idea had been in my mind for quite some time now and I finally had the opportunity to write it!

Enjoy!

* * *

 _Emma, come on. Focus. Take a deep breath and pull the trigger. It's right in front of you. You just have to pull the trigger, honey._

I manage to wake myself up from the dream that had been going on for a few days now. I don't know why I'm dreaming about my father and the days when we went hunting. Maybe because I've been lonely for quite some time now. I didn't know if there was any more life on this world other than the dead that walked the Earth.

The last group I had been with didn't like authority very much. I didn't ask to be the leader, they just thrust the position onto me. It was a small group – no more than five of us. All had been bitten during a scavenge run. I told them to follow me, but they decided against my word and walked right through a mass of the walking dead.

I still don't know what to call them. Zombies? The dead? It didn't matter. I didn't have anyone to talk to anyway.

I drape the sniper rifle over my backpack, looking around the empty house that I managed to find last night. Finding safe shelter nowadays was hard to come by so when I stumbled upon this safe haven, I knew I had to keep it.

I tied string around the trees that surrounded the home with empty food cans to alert me of any unwanted visitors while I was asleep. Since the ended, I learned how to sleep lightly that any noise or brush of wind would wake me. It was needed in this type of world with threats other than the dead.

Luckily, though, I hadn't encountered any other groups. I liked to work alone anyway. Being alone meant that I only had to worry about myself and myself only. I didn't need to worry about what others may think if I died, how hurt they would be if I were to have just become like one of these … _zombies._

It's still so odd to think of the walking dead as zombies. The term alone reminds me of the movies I used to watch as a kid, the same movies that my parents always told me I shouldn't watch but did anyway.

God, if only everyone was prepared for this type of world maybe the entire population had a chance.

 _Bang!_

 _Emma, look honey! You did it. Shot your very first deer. Would you look at that?_

I shake my head, trying to rid the thoughts and past memories of my family from my mind. I couldn't think about them. If I did, the weaker I would become. In this world, there was no time to dwell on the past.

Shooting a gun had never been easy. The way it recoils back against your shoulder, the loud noise that filter your ears… It was something I never got used to. Except the only difference was my target were now people and not animals.

On ground, I always knew that the unexpected could happen. Something may just come out of the blue and attack me. I had seen what other groups were capable of – survival of the fittest and all, but it was still such a horrible sight to witness. These were the things that I used to read in books and now I was seeing it unfold firsthand.

It was getting dark soon. I must have fallen asleep while on watch, which made sense since stumbling upon this old house happened late last night.

I felt comfortable in the air. In the trees. Higher away from the ground. No one seemed to ever look up and if no one knew I was there, then danger would never find me.

I begin to walk away from the house I found, hoping I could find some squirrels amongst the trees for dinner. I begin climbing the tree about half a mile from the house, hoisting myself up onto a branch. The darkness would help me if any of the dead or civilized people were to come my way.

Suddenly, I hear a few rustling sounds in the distance. I had managed to avoid people this long and the moment I found a house that I could stay in, I hear noises.

"Maybe it's just the dead. Stop being paranoid," I tell myself.

Though, at the sight of a group holding onto a makeshift stretcher, I knew it wasn't the dead. The woman on the stretcher looked very ill and the man with the long curls looked so troubled. In fact, the entire group didn't look harmless whatsoever.

 _Remember, honey. No one is safe. Not in this world. You've got a big heart, but you have to remind yourself that being kind will also get you killed._

I shake my head, trying to get rid of my dad's voice lingering in my mind. He had been with me in the beginning of the apocalypse until the dead managed to take him from me. I couldn't even put him out of his misery, no matter how many times he pleaded with me.

I let him suffer. I let him turn into … into one of those walking dead.

He was right. He was _always_ right. I always looked for the good in people and in this world, that was dangerous. I was a danger to myself, so being alone prevented me from attaching to people and people attaching to me.

But this group didn't look dangerous. They looked like they needed help and they looked like they were on a journey to find it. Everyone looked tired, helpless, like they couldn't accept the woman's fate.

I keep my attention solely on the group, hoping they would just pass me without a thought. They just needed to continue moving and then I wouldn't have to worry about them ever again. I didn't need to wonder why the woman looked so sick, where they were going, what was going on… I just needed to focus on myself and that was it.

That is until I hear whistling. Apparently the group below me had heard it too because unlike from me, they knew what was going on. It was clear with the fear written all over their faces.

Suddenly, I hear the brief white noise that signified lights were being turned on. Instantly, I turn my head to look at the many cars surrounding the group and not only were there many cars, but there were tons of men.

"Fuck…" I mumble, hiding myself in the darkness. I knew trouble was brewing and from the looks of the man with the curls… He knew it too.

They were surrounded with nowhere to go. They had to oblige or else they would all be killed. My eyes catch sight of a man on his knees – god I can see the bruises on his face and the busted lip.

What the fuck was going on?

The man with the pornstache began talking and I couldn't help but just listen. I should have climbed down the tree. I should have ran back to the house. Now, I couldn't help but eavesdrop.

I knew I needed to help and from the looks of it, it wasn't going to turn out well for me.

 _Em, don't. We don't know what they're capable of. We have to go now before they see us._

I tighten your jaw, gently rubbing at my temples. Now was not the time for my dad to be giving me advice in your ear.

"We'll take your weapons… Now." The man with the stache holds a gun to the redhead and instantly, the man with the curls tried to reason with him.

"Must be the leader," you mumble to yourself.

"On your knees," the man continues. They hesitate for a second before obliging.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Quietly, I bring my sniper rifle to the front of me, holding it against my chest, ready to aim if necessary.

Your eyes drift to a blonde haired man whose face looked half burnt opening the back of the van. Suddenly, I catch sight of four other people being dragged out and pushed to their knees.

They looked helpless and fuck, I knew what I had to do.

"Alright! We've got a full boat. Let's meet the man."

The man with the pornstache knocks on the door of the RV. Apparently, he wasn't the leader of this big group of men.

The door opens, revealing a man with slicked black hair, leather jacket, red scarf wielding a barbed-wire baseball bat.

And he was smiling.

"Damn, he's good looking," I whisper very quietly. It had been a while since I saw a good-looking man, but from the looks of it, he was about to do some damage to the group lined up before him.

"Pissin' our pants yet?" He begins, walking into the light.

He circles the group, holding the baseball confidently along his shoulder. His dimples definitely didn't go unnoticed and something about his confidence had some sort of charisma to him. In a world that could have broken everybody, he looked unfazed by it.

"Now, which one of you pricks is the leader?" He asks.

The man with the stache speaks again, pointing to the one with the curls dangling in front of his face.

I was right. He was the leader.

"Hi. You're Rick, right? I'm Negan." The man in the leather jacket says, grinning down almost evilly to Rick.

Aside from his good looks, he could talk and fuck, he talked _a lot_. Though at the mention of beating the "holy hell out one of you," I instantly bring my gun to rest against my shoulder. I look through the scope of the sniper rifle, aiming it directly at the very handsome man before me.

 _Dad, they have a kid! We have to help them!_

 _Emma, no. Let's go. I said we're not helping them, now listen to me!_

Suddenly, I'm brought back to the day on the bridge where a small family of three looked desperate for any food or water. The little kid had caught my attention. I couldn't imagine growing up in a world like this.

I didn't listen to my dad that day and as a result, we almost died. It made me realize that safety in this world was nonexistent. The kid held a gun shakily at me, prompting that we give them our things which we did.

We almost died of starvation and dehydration because of my stupid decision to help. My dad was right. Being kind and having a big heart was going to kill me and right now proved it.

Was I really going to risk my life to save these people?

"Yes. Fuck yes, I am." I tell myself.

Negan brings his bat over his head, ready to connect with the redhead.

I needed to do this fast. Suddenly, I point my gun to the man whose pornstache sickened me to my stomach.

 _Focus. Take a deep breath and pull the trigger. It's right in front of you. I believe in you, Em._

My dad's encouraging, supporting voice echoes in my ears and it takes me back to the days where we went hunting every other weekend.

I take a deep breath. I pull the trigger. I feel it recoil back against my shoulder almost painfully and the sound when the bullet escapes the gun to penetrate my target rings in my ear and echoes through the quietness of the woods.

If I didn't die by these men's hands, I was surely going to die by the horde of the dead that was sure going to come any second now.

"What the fuck?! Who did that?!" Negan says. The smile was long gone from his face and from the look on the other group's, fear only showcased in their features.

Simon had dropped to the floor, clutching his shoulder.

I didn't want to kill anyone. So, aiming for an area that wouldn't do any internal damage was best.

A group of men run to the man's aid, helping him up before I pull the trigger to shoot the redhead in the shoulder. He falls backwards, clutching his arm as Rick looks around to see where the shots had come from.

Rick's group managed to kill a lot of Negan's men, but I needed to teach them a lesson. Fighting back for killing each other's people was going to be a never-ending cycle.

Negan looked infuriated. His words of "not knowing shit" was definitely biting him in the ass.

"Fuck! Fucking find where those shots are coming from or I swear I will mother _fucking_ kill every single one of you! Now, fucking go!" Negan says, ordering his men to find the location of the shots.

I didn't know if I should stay up in the trees or climb down and make a run for it. If I stay in the trees and they find me, I'll be dead. If I make a run for it, at least I'll have a chance to dodge the bullets.

I place my sniper rifle behind my once more and quietly climb down the tree. Suddenly, I begin running, hearing people call out following their footsteps.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck…" I say to myself.

Suddenly, I feel a bullet graze my arm, putting a hole in the fabric of my jacket. My adrenaline is kicking and I can't seem to stop running despite the sounds of gunshots coming my way. All they were going to do was lead a herd of the dead straight to them.

It didn't help that I couldn't see anything. I just continued running, hoping that I would outrun them, but as I feel my foot catch underneath a stray branch, I topple forwards, feeling my ankle sprain in the process.

Once I fall backwards, I hurriedly try to push myself into a hiding spot. Though, it was no use because the same blonde-haired man look down at me with slightly narrow eyes. He picks me up by the arm, making me put pressure onto my ankle which earns a loud whimper of pain to escape my lips.

"I got her, boss. Doesn't look like she belongs to Alexandria or Hilltop." The blonde man says, tossing me to the ground in front of the large crowd of people.

Negan looks down at me and I could have sworn that if I had seen him on the streets or in a bar, I would have definitely tried to hook up with him.

I glance towards the other group who remained on their knees and the look of confusion runs through their features.

"Now, what the fuck do we have here?" Negan says, circling me as he removes the gun from my back, looking at it with slight fascination before handing it off towards one of his men.

Suddenly, I stand up despite the pain I'm in and size myself up against Negan.

"That's my fucking gun!"

He smiles. He has the audacity to fucking smile.

"Not anymore, princess. Now get back on your fucking knees before I make you."

I narrow my eyes. I bring my curled fist to connect with his jaw, pushing him afterwards as the same blonde man come to hold me back.

"Dwight, let her go. This one's a fucking fighter." Negan grins, holding his jaw as he stares at me with anger filling his eyes.

For a moment, I could practically hear my father _tsk_ at me.

Dwight pushes me onto my knees and I couldn't help but keep my hands curled into fists. Maybe I shouldn't have gotten involved.

"Now, doll, tell me why the fuck you had to fucking shoot my motherfucking right hand man? That was not cool. Not _fucking_ cool. You have no idea how not fucking cool that shit is." Negan says, leaning down to face me.

I keep my eyes directly onto his eyes, the glare fueling my anger and irritation.

"I want my fucking gun back." I demand.

He laughs. It wasn't supposed to be funny, but I could tell I have amused him.

"What? Are you fucking deaf, doll? Your gun? It fucking belongs to me now. There is no fucking way that you will ever get it back."

I hesitate before he presses a hand down roughly onto my shoulder to keep me where I was at. He must have noticed that I was going to try and punch him again.

"Cross me again and I will fucking make it my mission to kill you, princess."

He cups my chin and I instantly pull away him. Negan smirks, standing up to walk back towards the group in front of me. I lock eyes with the redhead and instantly send an apologetic look his way.

"Doll, tell me. Do you know any of these sorry shits here? Do you know Rick? The future serial killer down there?"

Negan asks, turning his attention back to me as he keeps his bat rested on his shoulder.

"N – No. I don't know any of them!"

Negan narrows his eyes, his smile faltering for a moment.

"Then why the fuck are you getting involved?!" He yells and suddenly, I flinch back. For the first time since meeting the man, fear flashed through my eyes.

I take a deep breath, trying to keep myself together. I was not going to allow this man the benefit to see me in fear.

"I shot your guy and I shot his. I figure I'll call it even for the both of you." I hesitantly say, looking back at Rick and making eye contact with him for a brief moment before Negan cups my chin.

"I'm fucking talking to you and when I'm fucking talking to you, you fucking look at me. Do I make myself clear?"

"Don't touch me." I tell him, turning my head away from his grasp.

"Rick, you know this hot piece of ass? And I suggest not fucking lying to me either." Negan says, walking towards Rick.

"No. I've never seen her before."

Negan takes note of the sincerity in Rick's voice before he circles the group once more. Finally, he leans back and lets out a loud chuckle.

"Are you trying to be the fucking hero, doll? Trying to save these people from their doom, is that it? What the fuck do you get out of it?" Negan turns to me and I shut my eyes, hearing my father's voice from the back of my mind.

 _Your mother would have been so proud of you. Wanting to help and create humanity again is no easy task and sometimes, we lose, but that's okay. This world could have broken you, broken your spirit, but you're still here… With the same big heart and want to help people._

I feel a tear leak at the corner of my eye and instantly, I bring a hand to wipe it away. Negan takes notice of it and bends down to be at eye level with you, gently stroking your cheek.

"Don't worry, doll. I'm not going to fucking kill you if that's what you're fucking thinking. I could use someone like you…"

Instantly, I open my eyes and send him a glare.

"I'm not fucking scared to die, if that's what _you're_ thinking."

Negan grins, "Careful how you're fucking look at me, princess. _Careful_."

"I told you not to touch me. Now, if you want to get hit on the other side of your jaw, I highly suggest backing the _fuck_ off."

I'm really asking for a death wish at this point. The way his face falls and the seriousness settles in his features scared me, but maybe my time has come. At least I could say that I died trying to save people.

"Mm, you're making it really fucking hard to be nice to you. Now, tell me. Why the fuck did you get involved, hm? You could have gone on your merry way, mind your own fucking business… But instead, you shoot _my_ right hand-man and one of Rick's men. I'd say you owe us a fucking debt."

I tighten my jaw, digging my knuckles against the sides of my thighs in irritation.

"I just tried to help." I answer simply.

"Help? You wanted to fucking help? Staying out of it could have fucking helped!" Negan yells.

"You were going to kill them, or one of them at least."

I make eye contact with Rick again and for a moment, I notice him shaking his head as if to advise me to stop talking. It reminded me of my father. Maybe he was looking out for me in a form of another man.

"So, you're on the wrong fucking side then. Is that what you're telling me? And I'd think very fucking hard if I were you."

I sigh, shaking my head. "If the roles were reversed and you and your men were on your knees, I would have done the same thing."

Negan grins, "What's your fucking name anyway?"

"E – Emma…"

"Hi, Emma. I'm Negan."

"I know. I heard your monologue. He killed your people. You want revenge. It goes something like that, right? You kill one of his people and then what, Negan? What's going to happen next?" I hesitantly ask, keeping my eyes focused solely on the man before me.

I couldn't miss a beat. I had to keep going. I had to remain confident, strong-willed, _brave_ …

"I kill one of their people and then I take their shit. They fucking work for me now, Emma. I thought you heard my entire fucking speech. I'd say it was pretty good." Negan remains confident, letting his bat rest against him ready to be swung at any moment.

"It's a never-ending cycle, Negan. You retaliate and kill one of his people. What makes you think they won't plot against you? It may not be now, may not be tomorrow, but one day, they will retaliate. Working together is the only way we survive in this world. We shouldn't be fighting against each other…

"We should be fighting together. The dead… Those are our enemies. Not each other. When did we all fucking lose sight of that?"

I may have not had the right to speak for anyone, but what I did know was that I was going to speak my mind about this entire world. I hadn't spoken to anyone in almost a month and a half and I needed to say my peace, even if it was going to be the last thing I was going to say.

"This is the new world, Emma. Thinking that the people you encounter are good people is a stupid fucking outlook on life. I can see it. _You've got a big fucking heart, but that's going to get you killed one fucking day_."

What the fuck was going on? It was as if my dad was speaking through two of these men.

"What? What did you just say?"

Negan smirks, "That your outlook on life is fucking stupid?"

"No, not that. My big heart… It's going to kill me one day?"

He clicks his tongue, leaning back with a grin that flashes his teeth and showcases his dimples.

"That's exactly what I fucking said. And it's fucking true, doll. What you just said… It makes no sense. It's all survival of the fucking fittest."

I shake my head, beginning to stand up. I hear guns being lifted and as I glance over to Negan's men, I see the end of each gun facing in my direction. All Negan had to do was instruct them to shoot and I would be dead before I even moved an inch.

"Doll, don't make me fucking ask again… Get on your knees."

"No. I'm just going to leave." I begin limping away before I feel Negan's strong hand wrap around my arm, tugging me back to him.

"Oh, Emma… Sweet, sweet, Emma… You really didn't think I would let you fucking leave, did you? You're going to watch what I didn't get to finish."

He motions to two of his men to hold me down onto my knees, making sure I didn't budge. I breathe heavily, watching as Negan circles around Rick's group and suddenly, I see the fear enter their eyes once more.

"Ah, Red. I'll just put you out of your fucking misery now."

Negan, once more, raises his bat.

Suddenly, I glance up at one of the men holding me and grab the gun from his waist, pulling the trigger to shoot him directly in the chest. Might as well turn him into the dead to turn the attention elsewhere.

The other man raises his gun towards me and I instantly grab his wrist, twisting it painfully as I grab the gun that he drops. Almost instantly, I pull the trigger once more, lodging the bullet straight through his skull.

I hold up two guns, directing it to Negan and looking at the men whose guns were raised, pointing it in my direction.

"Tell your fucking men to stand down or I will shoot their fearless leader." I tell him, watching Negan's arms slump forward as I breathe heavily.

"Please… Don't kill anymore… This has got to stop."

Negan turns to face me, both guns pointed directly at his head. He wasn't scared, but he was sure angry.

"You just killed two of my men… You're sounding like a fucking hypocrite right about now, Emma."

I take a deep breath, pointing the other gun directly at Rick. I keep my eyes solely on Negan, seeing him motion for his men to lower their guns.

"I know, I know… I'm sorry… Don't make me… Please, don't make me kill you. Don't make me kill him."

Rick looks at me, trying to read my actions.

"You don't have it in you, doll. If you apologized for killing my fucking men, you won't pull the trigger. So, put the fucking gun down, Emma before I allow my men target practice on your ass." He threatens, stepping closer to me as the end of the gun rests against his forehead.

"You do that and you'll attract a herd of the dead. Your fucking choice."

Negan laughs, watching me with careful eyes.

"Oh, I'm going to fucking keep you."

I shut my eyes for a brief moment, looking up at Negan.

"I'll – I'll let you take me … In change for their freedom. You let them go. You let them get to where they need to go and then I will help you send a message in a different way. Killing them will spark a war, Negan.

"I will do anything that you ask of me as long as you let them go. _Untouched_. If not, I will kill you right here. Right now. Like I said earlier, I do not mind dying. You'll die right before your man's bullet hits me. So please… Just _let_ them go."

Negan narrows his eyes, glancing at where the other gun was pointed before he takes a step back. He may have not been scared to die, but I knew he wasn't ready to die _today_.

"Why are you putting your fucking ass on the line for these sorry shits, doll? What did they ever do to you? What makes them _deserving_ of this nice mother _fucking_ gesture?"

"Like I said earlier, Negan… If it were you on your knees and Rick in charge, I'd have done the same thing and threatened Rick. No one needs to die… _Please_."

"That's not a fucking good enough answer, doll. You're going to have to fucking convince me, Emma." Negan says, letting his bat rest near him.

"Damn it! Is it so hard to fucking want to restore some humanity in this shit of a world we all live in?!"

I tighten my jaw at the pain in my ankle, desperately hoping Negan would agree to my negotiation. My dad would be shaking his head at me right about now. Getting involved in a situation that I had no business in.

"Fuck it," Negan says, raising his bat and bringing it near my face. I don't flinch, but instead I raise my gun, ready to pull the trigger.

"Not even a flinch? Fuck, doll. You are a fucking _badass_. But you know what? You've got yourself a fucking deal."

I lower my gun, breathing a sigh of relief before I feel Dwight tie my hands behind my back, pushing me back onto my knees.

I lock eyes with Rick for a moment, seeing him flash a look of uncertainty. I furrow my brows in confusion before I hear a shriek of pain, turning my head to see Negan beginning his assault on the redhead.

"Taking it like a fucking champ!" Negan laughs, bringing his bat over the man's head over and over again.

I feel tears stream down my cheeks as I squirm against the ropes, feeling it dig against my wrists. I didn't know this man, this group, these people, but I felt partially responsible. I watch Negan continue his assault on the man. The merciless in his actions proved that he wasn't afraid to kill and took enjoyment out of it.

Finally, I pry my eyes away from Negan when I hear that he had begun hitting the Asian man. His eye had popped out of his skull and all I wanted to do right now was be back at the house that I had found, sleeping soundly.

When Negan finishes, he swings his bat freely in the air, causing blood to stain Rick's cheek before he turns his attention to me.

He kneels down to be at eye level with me, showcasing his blooded bat with a sense of pride in his features.

"Look at my dirty girl!" Negan says, cupping my cheek to make me stare at the mess he made.

"You're pathetic." I glare, pulling my face once more away from his grasp. "And like I said, do not fucking touch me."

Negan laughs, looking into my eyes.

"Oh, but you fucking belong to me now, doll. We made a deal, remember?"

"You didn't hold up your end of the deal, Negan."

He smiles mischievously at me, the glint of interest hitting his eyes. "What? I believe I fucking did. I'm letting them go. You didn't say to let _all_ of them go, doll."

Fuck. He got me there.

I look away, sending an apologetic look towards Rick as the rest of his group stare at the two bodies with crushed heads. For the longest time, I had managed to escape the dangers of people, the dangers of the dead, but now…

I just made a deal with the devil.


End file.
